Now I had a secret I wanted to take with me.
“Okay,” I said.
One word. Quiet as a cemetery, cold as winter.
I took the pen he handed me, turned to the last page of the divorce decree, which had clearly been prepared a few days ago, and signed.
Nora Vance.
Not Sterling. Vance.
I never really belonged to them.
I picked up the check, folded it carefully, and pocketed it.
Then I left the office for the last time.
The atmosphere in the office fell silent as I pocketed the check.
Artur looked genuinely stunned. He had clearly been practicing his angry father-in-law speech for an hour, preparing counterarguments to my tears and pleas.
I had just taken the program from him.
Julian finally looked up from his phone. He frowned, and a glint of confusion, perhaps even a hint of something darker, crossed his perfect features.
But I didn’t care.
Whatever emotions he might have felt, they appeared three years too late.
“I’ll be there in thirty minutes,” I said.
I left the office and walked up the main stairs one last time, running my hand along the banister I’d polished myself when the staff was overwhelmed.
I went to what used to be our bedroom, even though Julian hadn’t slept there in over a year.
He preferred his apartment in the east wing, away from me.
I didn’t touch the designer dresses hanging in the closet, the clothes Arthur had bought me so I’d look presentable at charity events.
I didn’t take diamonds, pearls, or any of the jewelry that was an integral part of being Sterling’s wife.
I reached deep into the closet and pulled out the battered suitcase I’d brought three years ago.
The same suitcase I’d used in college, covered in stickers from places I’d never been but dreamed of visiting.
I took off the expensive silk dress I’d been wearing and put on old jeans and a white T-shirt.
Clothes that were mine, bought with my own money, worn out by life.
